Morning
by ButterflysHurricane
Summary: Heero looks back and talks about how a special someone helped him


Disclaimer: I don't own anything apart from Manic Street Preacher and Muse C.D's. No Mobile Suit Gundam Wing here!  
  
Pairing: Reference to 1+2  
  
Warnings: Deathfic?  
  
Author Comments: Ok, first fic, so be gentle. This was originally written as a plot bunny on _____. I don't really like reading fics where someone dies, but the synopsis was for past event, even though I wrote about it, plus the song that inspired it was 'Feeling Good' which was covered by Muse, who are my muse, so I decided to give it a go. I assure you I will not be killing anyone else off... That's reserved for my very own characters. He he.  
  
C&C: Yes Please. Either review or send to crystal_phoenix_7@hotmail.com  
  
Morning  
  
By T. R Phoenix  
  
The morning sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains wakes me up. Strong and pure, I can't help but feel that this is my favourite time of day. I love the hazy yet refreshed feeling in the first few hours of the day. For me, the morning is when I get the most work done. My energy is at its peak and I need to use it as quick as possible before I become restless and fidgety.  
  
As I sit down to breakfast, my mind starts to work properly. Not just random thought, proper memories. Memories of him. He's always the first thought that comes through. My smile fades a bit, but its still there. There was a time when I did not smile. A time when my sole purpose in life was to destroy. There was no other meaning to it, I would not allow that. Back then; I would never have thought a simple smile could fulfil me in such a way. There was one smile that I will never forget.  
  
Duo Maxwell. Two simple words that's mean so much. He was the one who made me smile and laugh. Not just a manic laugh after destruction, a real smile. One that showed how exactly how I felt. He made me smile. He helped me with so much. I realised that my life could have more meaning to it. I also had the feeling that only he could do this to me. Only when he was around could I truly feel these emotions. Then he was gone and I thought I would never feel anything again. Numbness fell over me. I did not cry, I did not feel grievous. I could not feel a thing. How could I now that he was not around?  
  
Only after the funeral did I start to feel something. Pain. Nothing that could be taken away with painkillers, this was true emotional pain. My chest contracted, lungs gasped for air, heart trying to beat. Was this what survivor guilt was? Was I guilty that I was still here while Duo had given his life?  
  
We were under heavy fire from fractured OZ troops. The Preventors were the ones called in to take care of them. From our position, we were pinned. An aircraft hanger was our last stand. Then it happened. The soldiers came through the door and opened fire. I vaguely remember what happened in those next few seconds, but before I knew it, I was pushed over by the weight of someone falling. Pinned beneath him, I heard him laugh quietly then sigh. I managed to turn with Duo still on top of me. He had shielded me from the bullets, at the price of his own life. His limp body still sprawled on me; all I could do was look. His face was strangely peaceful. Eyes closed and a small smile on his lips. I froze. I could not move. Even though the gun battle was still going on, I blocked out the sounds and everything else. He was... he had saved me. Not a thought as to his own life. It did not seem real. It could not be! He can't just die! What was he thinking of. I grabbed his shoulders and shook him, I shouted his name, screamed for him to wake up but nothing I did helped. He was somewhere I could not reach. Still warm, nothing like I thought death would be. But then again, I never even saw Duo's death coming. I could imagine my own. I had hit the self- destruct button, I had asked Noventa's family to take my life and other times I put my life on the line. I always expected Duo to be there till the end, but it is me that is still here. Still living.  
  
The following months were the worse. I could barely function. I could not sleep in our bed. I had taken to the sofa and an old blanket. I did not have an appetite, I never left the house. The others came around; trying to cheer me up, coax me out. Quatre was the most frequent visitor. He would visit every week and bring food and make sure I was ok. I did not appreciate it at the time, but I'm now thankful. He and Duo were close as well. We all were. At the time they held little meaning, but now, looking back, all the comforting words did help.  
  
Three months past before I cried. A choking sob at first. Tears welling up, blurring my vision before rolling down my cheeks. Self-pity, I was crying for myself. I hated that. I threw things; upturned tables, I even managed to put my hand through an oak door, which even surprised me. There I sat in the middle of this destruction, crying for Duo. It was for Duo. I finally cried for him. All my emotions crashed over me at once, drowning me. I did not want to be saved though. I let them take me and break me. Then clarity hit me, more so than anything before in my life. It was like he was there, comforting me. He looks over me. From the start he has watched over me.  
  
Slowly, the pain started to dull. I started to realise that if he were here, he would berate me for doing this to his memory. I started to remember him as he was. Bright, cheerful, cute. I realised that he had helped me out of a shell I did not think I could break.  
  
I got rid of a lot of demons when he was with me. He helped me there. Even he started to let his past slip away. I knew that he resented his past, but he never forgot it. The events that happened to him made who he was. He remembered his past, yet never dwelt in it. It never consumed him. He taught me that.  
  
Loving Duo was the easiest thing I ever did. Admitting that I did, even to myself, was the hardest. Maybe we did not fall in love straight away, shooting me was a bit off-putting, but gradually I began to feel that fluttery feeling in my stomach when he was near. When we did finally get together we did not waste any time in consummating. Minutes between confessing and groping. I can't remember that first time but the subsequent times were exquisite. Whether it was heated, lust-filled fucking, or slow, tender love by the fireside stuff, each and every time was special, unique, Duo.  
  
Living without him is hard at times. I haven't gotten over him, but I have moved on and I take him with me. He is a part of me, just as I am a part of him. He'll always be with me so I need not worry about forgetting him.  
  
I miss him. I live for him. 


End file.
